O Fantasma

O Fantasma



I have always wanted to go to Kerala often termed as “The Land of God”. I have never visited Kerala except for a school excursion when I was a kid and that too for a stupid dam. So this time when my brother offered me a visit to Kerala I seized the opportunity without giving it any further of thought.



My brother Dinesh worked in an industry near Calicut. As my XII board exams were over I needed a break before my parents start pestering me about next big thing “the Higher Studies”, which is obviously going to be their choice anyway. Hence I planned to go for this summer to take my mind off from the boring studies which doesn’t have any point, the exams that I have done really bad and finally Priyanka who is first in my most hated list (not long ago she was first in the other list).



I and my brother took a train in the noon. During the journey I realized that the whole “trees walking back” poetry stuff is not lame but very correct. After 107 songs in my iPod and 3 packets of lays, my brother signaled me that we ought to get down. When the train slowed down my brother nudged me to jump from the running train and I managed to do that with some discomfort but he did it easily.

“You’ve to go all the way to Calicut and take a cab back.” he meant it like it was funny.

I felt the explanation was not sufficient for that life threatening jump.

“It’s not a joke. I almost would have hurt myself real bad.” I said, giving him a very hard stare.

“My friends’ house is just a 10 minute walk from here. The train always slows down here because the bridge it has to cross is very old. At least 100 years old I think.” Dinesh said, picking up the luggage.

Halfway through his friend joined us. I’ve to say he had a very weird name.

“Elai” he introduced himself.

Before I asked he said that his name originated from the spice elaichi, which is common here.

After some introductions and small talks the conversation headed to the eventual uncomfortable question for a person who faced the board exams (unprepared obviously).

“So how was your exams Raghav?” Elai asked.

“Not very well and I don’t want to talk about it.” I said.

Felt really bad for snubbing the conversation like that. But after 24 steps and 1 lamp post Elai asked “Any future plans?”

Again, I thought.

“Nothing ....” and I paused.

“So you don’t want to talk about it either.”

“Look,” he continued “we have to talk about something. This path is possessed with demons and monsters; they don’t like people going mum in this path, especially at this time. They fear us and feel that we may hurt them. This is a weird place and we got to respect it.”

“Demons! Seriously! Fear us?” I said double quoting the fear us part and laughed at Elai.

“Seriously believe me.” He chuckled at me.

I shrugged and I got down untying and tying my shoe laces just to lose him. I was glad that I was at least a couple of steps lagging behind them.

“Has your brother said anything about this place?” Elai asked turning back.

“No.” I said.

“Your answers are always in single syllable. Anyway would you like to hear something about the place?” he asked.

“Yup, I would like to.” I said looking at the laces again.

“This part of land is a small island in the river which joins the ocean 5 Km from here. It’s like a delta but very small in size. The river is on either side of this part of land.” He said looking at his watch.

It started to get dark and cold. I could hear the waves in the shore from there. The coconut trees danced for the tunes of the sea wind and ripples formed in the backwater. The ambience was fantastic in the twilight. I would vote this as the most beautiful place above any other place in the world. I could smell happiness in the place but a little annoyed with Elai.

“The history of this place” he continued with a tone of a tour guide (probably had many rehearsals) “is very interesting. You know Vasco Da Gama right?” now questioning like a history teacher.”

“Yup, the Portuguese guy who docked here in the 1530’s. I guess?” I said lethargically.

“No it’s the 15th century. Precisely May 20, 1498.” Elai said, now like a history professor. “And the person who came in 1526 is Babar. It’s funny that the moguls came here only after the Portuguese.”

Oh my God! What would stop this guy from talking (that too about history)?

“Vasco docked here in the evening of May 20 on board of Berrio with his brother Paulo Da Gama.” He said sounding as if he was friends with Vasco Da Gama.

Dinesh probably hearing this for the nth time gave me a mischievous smile and turned.

Damn you idiot.

“Actually I remember that he landed in Calicut.” I said Refreshing my memory.

“It’s called Calecut in those times. But this is more or less Calicut. The city is about 10 miles along the coast. This beach had a natural harbor in those days but got eroded in time.

“The king of Panane, Zamorin welcomed him into the main land. They had parties and ceremonies. The locals loved the Portuguese for they had many new things into their lives.” He said breathing heavily.

“The prime reason for the expedition was the closing of Khyber pass for the Europeans, who were trading with the rich Indian rulers. The raise of Turk power in Afghanistan resulted in the closing of the pass. It cut off the only connection between the Indian mainland and the vast Europe. This urged the Europeans to find an alternative sea route to India.

“When the Portuguese found the alternative route to India, they continued their trading again. The Muslim rulers did not like the relationship between the Hindu rulers and the Portuguese, which made them richer and more powerful. So they attacked the regions where the people traded with the Portuguese.” Elai continued his lectured without looking at me.

“Enough man,” Dinesh interrupted “he is getting bored. Let’s leave him.”

“Are you?” Elai asked.

“No.” I said somewhat interested by the story.

“No, I don’t want you to tell that story and scare him. Last time you did that, I was frightened for at least 20 days to stay at your house.” Dinesh said that without blinking his eyes.

“What’s up?” I said intrigued.

“Now see you got his expectations high.” Turning to me he said “There is nothing great in the story and it’s not a story, it’s real.” He said somewhat furiously to Dinesh.

“So where was I?” he asked me.

“There used to be an old temple in the place where my house stands now. A temple of Lord Krishna, probably around thousand years old, even in those times. There was a huge statue of lord Krishna sculpted from a single stone brought in from the Ganges. The temple was the nucleus for the village. It was the time of Onam, the entire village gathered around the temple for celebrations. Portuguese were also present during the occasion.

“The Muslim shah who ruled the state near Pannane used this moment to attack the village. He thought this might scare the foreigners away.”

Old version of terrorism I thought.

“Suddenly the swordsmen stormed in and besieged the defenseless people in the temple. They were caught off guard and were terrified. Everyone ran for their lives but were slaughtered cold blooded. Some fearing the sharp swords jumped into the well. Some survived this ordeal through hiding in the trees and the houses near by. The Portuguese somehow escaped the onslaught.

“The soldiers looted the temple and the village. There was this girl Meera who tried to stop them who entered the sanctum sanctorum. She splashed oil on the soldiers and set them ablaze. This raged the head of the group and he ordered to catch her and hang her from the big tree in front of the temple, to set an example for the people who dared to oppose the Shah. This happened with an expense of four more oil cans and two more soldiers. She was spoiled by the soldiers and then hanged in the tree.” He sighed with a void stare at me.

“The tree is still in front of the house. The village still worships this tree.” He said pointing to tree.

I realized we came to his house after a half hour walk. I looked at the tree and was stunned. There was a large wooden doll wrapped around a red silk sari nailed to the tree. Also there were many small size wooden doll nailed the tree with some hair on them.

“What’s this?” I exclaimed.

“The people here believe that the spirit of Meera still live in this tree and heals people who get possessed with demons.”

“Possessed with demons?”

“In your words, people who are physically or mentally ill. They make a wooden doll and cut some hair from the person and nail them both on the tree.” Elai said touching one creepy wooden doll.

“You’ve seen them get cured?” I said feeling a bit weird about the doll he was touching.

“I don’t know, but people believe in it. People even from outside this village, even from outside Kerala come here and nail their dolls. Once in a full moon day people burn the dolls.” He said taking his hands off and dusting his hands.

I sighed. A bit relived and said “How would you know a lot about the attack and killings and the woman. Folklore huh?”

“My grandpa told me the story. You remember about the Portuguese gathered in here, one of them was Alvaro Velho. He stayed in this village during that time.

“He is not a well known in history, but he recorded everything in a diary, that they have encountered during their voyage and also during their stay. He even has drawn some interesting sketches like the Indian who guided them from Mozambique to Calecut, the ship, his dog, Vasco and some crew members, also the temple which got destroyed. He left that diary here, might be accidently.

“My grandpa when he was constructing the new house. The content was in Portuguese but he translated the whole thing to English. He learnt Portuguese for that.” He said pointing to the old battered house in the corner, where Elai claims the Alvaro guy lived for sometime during the visit.

The present house was also looking creepy too. A huge wooden door with iron cones and carved out wooden decorations, having old styled windows with semicircular vents above them and surprisingly modern interior.

One thing was nagging me. Why Dinesh should be scared for this.

“What’s so scary about this Dinesh” I asked turning back to Dinesh who looked tired from the long walk.

“Nothing,” Elai interrupted “Its just people believe that the house and well in the farm is still haunted with the spirits of the people who were killed during the massacre.”

“Do you believe?” I asked.

“I have lived here my whole life but I have never seen anything like that. But I believe in certain things.”

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“I personally think that they might exist. I think you will be familiar with the law of conservation of energy.”

“Yes, energy can neither be created nor be destroyed, it can only be transformed.” I said straining my memory.

“Yes. Let’s assume the spirit or life or anything that you might call, the force that makes the empty organic body work can be assumed as a form of energy.”

“Ya,Ok.” I said thinking about the point he is trying to make. But it didn’t make any sense.

“Then based on the law the energy in the form of life can neither be created nor be destroyed. So it has to stay behind in some form. It’s just my theory; no one has to accept with that.”

It did make sense. But it’s stupid.

“May be yes, But ...” I said still not getting the point.

I allowed my mind wander and matched the story with the place. The tree, the wooden decoy of Meera….

Somehow it did not fit.

Then I looked harder, there was a well. An old, thick stone walled, dried up, algae filled well. Also a large stone lying near, a milky white flawless stone with flower garlands on them. Then I realized that I am looking at the foot of what would have been a huge Krishna statue. I also noticed half the Chakra and some pillars of the temple laying both horizontally and vertically.

Somehow everything fitted now.

The house and the big farm behind it with its ancient ruins looked spectacular. I found myself looking awed at the place when Elai disrupted. He took me back into the house.

Both of them started preparing for the dinner. Elai made me give a hand in peeling onions which turned out bad when the sulfur in the onions helped my eyes well up. It turned worse when Elai gave a lecture on how to peel the onions without tearing up.

Over dinner it turned out worst when Elai started again.

“So you believed in anything about what I said? Are you scared like your brother was?” He said mischievously smiling at Dinesh.

Give a break. Better not to reply I thought.

“Oh no we have got another coward from the Mahadevan family.” He laughed heartily.

Irritated, I said “Did I say I am frightened? I haven’t even said that I believe in any of the crap you said. With all due respect I am afraid that you and your stories might spoil my vacation.”

I regretted the last sentence came out loud. The smile in Elai’s face now reduced to a mere smirk.

“So you don’t believe…”

I pretended to have stuck with a cereal in my teeth and tried to remove it, trying to avoid Elai’s gaze across the table.

“You don’t believe in ghosts, demons or any kind of apparition that you might come across.” He said looking up “Then I presume that you also don’t believe in black magic too?”

“What the ‘lemon and skull’ thing? That is a negative too.”

“I think its enough that we have discussed our beliefs and non beliefs in detail.” Dinesh intervened. “You finish your dinner and we shall go to sleep. We have had a long trip today Raghav.” He said looking at me. “And I guess we have to go for work tomorrow Elai.”

“Ok but just one thing.” Elai said finishing his plate. “I hate to ask this but do you believe in God or …?”

“I think I don’t have to answer each and every one of your questions. I hope every person in this country has the right to have their own choices. My choice is being rational and yours is being irrational. I don’t care about your choice.” I said, this time looking straight at him.

“God is not irrational Mr.Raghav. Look in algebra if there is an unknown quantity in an equation; we assume it as a variable ‘X’, not as zero. For those who found it is God, for those who haven’t solved, He is still an ‘X’. If you hold on to your constitutional rights for this then I thing, it is you who is being ‘irrational’.” He finished his talk with an imaginary double quotes for the word irrational.

“I think sometimes the solution for certain equation is a big round zero.” I said hoping it to be a strong retreat.

“I guess I believe in something that I didn’t believe in till this day.” He said with a wicked smile unflustered by the point I made. Which made me even more irritated. 

“And what is that ‘Mr. Believer’?”

“The Tale of The Dogs Tail.” He stood up and left for his room.

I was glad he was gone. Felt a little uncomfortable to talk to him like that since he was the host.

The whole talk from during the evening seemed to me like a history class then physics and then mathematics. Incredible! 

“If you guys are going for work then what am I supposed to do here alone?”

“Just half a day, I will come back and we shall go some place. But don’t worry, Thriller will give you company.”

“What Thriller?”

“You will love it. It’s a cute dog like Dolly.” Dinesh said arranging the bed.

The mention of dolly saddened me. Dolly was this cute little dash hound.  Grandma gave her to me as a birthday present. She loved dogs. She always used to say “There are two types of people in this world; one is a cat person and the other a dog person.” I guess I became a dog person. When dolly died I felt like losing a person. 

“Where is he now?” I asked curiously.

“Must have gone somewhere, he will come back in the morning. There will be workers coming to work in the farm. So don’t worry.”

I went to sleep with the aide of my iPod which has become a habit of mine lately. My mood changed along with each song. As Eric Clapton rendered Layla, my thoughts drifted to Priyanka. I switched off the iPod immediately and tried to sleep.

I felt like my face getting wet. I opened my eyes and was surprised to see daylight. The whole nights sleep felt like a very brief nap. It looked like it had rained. The lush green flora nodded with their wet fresh leaves. I touched and felt my skin wet and sticky. Then I realized that there is someone else in the bed with me.

“Oh you are Thriller. Pleased to meet you sir.” I said rubbing my face.

Thriller was an enormous Saint Bernard. My grandma used to have this breed of dog. Saint Bernard is one of the highest and costliest breed of dogs. Their native is the snow capped Alps in Switzerland and Italy. I was surprised that Elai had one of these and he let it wander during night. Stupid Elai.

I found a note from Dinesh saying that they already took off to work and there is breakfast in the kitchen.

I grazed Thrillers head and his droopy ears. He had the most innocent eyes. Dogs always do. He had a golden colored medal tied around his neck in a black rope.

“Come on Thriller lets have some coffee.”

I was surprised to see a maid in the kitchen. Dinesh didn’t mention any maid, may be one of the farm workers. The old lady gave me a smile and a cup of hot coffee. 

The barking Thriller brought me to the veranda. The coffee tasted better in the serene place. Thriller came near me and started sniffing. A dog’s habit when it meets a new person. He looked at me and the cup and dutifully wagged his tail.

“Oh wait I will get you some biscuits.”

This time the way back to the kitchen had a very strange feeling. As I neared the kitchen the air had an obnoxious smell. When I entered the kitchen I realized that the smell was something that every human being in the planet would feel sick about. The stench of blood enveloped the whole kitchen. The old lady was lying in a pool of blood. It was like a canvas painting of a woman in a deep red background with a tinge of black in it.

I was so terrified that I couldn’t find where the woman was bleeding. The face looked ghastly, the eyes peering the ceiling. I ran to the bedroom and stumbled upon my phone. It took three attempts for my shaky and sweaty hands to unlock the keypad. “Damn cell phones.”

I straightaway pressed the green button twice and the call was directed to Dinesh. The metallic voice of KJ.Yesudas did not bring a calming effect in me. “Pick up you…”

“What?” Dinesh said urgently.

It took a while for me to reply. “The maid… the maid is …”

“What maid? There… no maid… in… house”

The conversation interrupted and a wild scream came from the other side. Then a long wicked laugh from a lady and she said  “None of you bearded dogs will be allowed to enter the Temple and touch my Lord Krishna!” in Tamil.

What? What beard? What temple?

Questions in my mind fear in my heart. No answers. I ran back to the kitchen. The corpse was gone. Then I remembered the tattoo. Temple-bearded men-Krishna-…

Meera!

No way. It cant be true. This is a dream. I should wakeup. I hit my head twice, splashed some water in my face. I didn’t wakeup. I could hear my heart beat. Eyes welled up. Everything went blank. I ran out of the house my fist clenched as fast as I could. My mind scanned for options.

Suddenly I remembered Thriller. Where is he? I turned back and scuttled. Nothing was visible. I hit something on the way and fell down. I cleared my eyes to see out of all the tears.

My heart skipped a beat. There hanged the body of a young woman clad in a red sari. The eerie eyes opened and looked straight at me. Everything blurred after that. I blanked.

************

I felt something in my nose. Something irritating poked my nose. I opened my eyes. It was Elai’s finger in my nose. He pulled out a root like thing from my nose when I looked at him.

“Hello.” He said with a cheerful smile. 

I still was confused between dream and reality. Still felt the ghastly eyes peering at me angrily.

“What happened?”

“Realization of truth.” He suggested sarcastically.

“What, ghosts?”

“They are not ghosts. They are just your imagination.”

I noticed the old lady standing near the doorway. I pointed my finger at her.

“She is one of many who practices black magic. She is the best in her family to know about it. Her whole ancestors are experts in practicing black magic.”

“So you used it to get back at me. This is a revenge for my disagreement?”

“It’s not revenge.” He said laughing at my naivety.

“Then what did she do to me?”

“There is a potion called Manjaarithal. It’s a mixture of roots and leaves of certain plants in exact proportions that only they know. When it is consumed by a person they can control his mind like things he could feel, what he does, what he sees et cetera. She mixed that in the coffee and you saw certain abnormalities.

“Look people don’t understand what black magic really is and the power of it. Even Hitler sent some of his SS officers to Kerala to do research about it. He thought he could use it to live and rein the world forever. But the fact is; it cannot be used for destruction. Even if it is used the person would succumb to its power.” He finished.

“I am still not convinced.”

“To be frank I didn’t like the way you being skeptical and funny about things that you have no idea. So I thought….” 

“Make me a scapegoat and laugh about it? That is your intention right?” I said angrily.

“Ok I understand. I am extremely sorry. I didn’t expect it to be this serious.” He continued “But you have to thank Thriller for guarding you till we came here.” He took a brown colored country dog from the floor.   

“What? I thought that Saint Bernard was Thriller.” I said looking doubtfully at the dog.

“Still imagining things huh?” He said laughing out loud.

“No. I even saw him before I took the coffee.”

He suddenly jumped from his seat and scuttled to the nearby room. He came back with a very old black leather book. He placed the book in front of me and turned the pages. There was an old bookish odor which made me feel like being in a library. He turned the pages frantically with a gloomy expression which I didn’t see till now. The book consisted of indistinct writing in a foreign language.

“This is Alvaro Velho’s book” He said.

I remembered him mentioning about the book, with chronological description of Vasco Da Gama’s voyage from Portugal. I realized the writings were in Portuguese. There was an entire section of sketches with their names and description about them below it.

He stared at a particular page and said “My grandpa used to say about this. I thought he is telling another story. But …” and showed me the page.

I stared at a poorly drawn sketch of a St Bernard. I looked closer and saw the same golden colored medal clad in the neck of the dog. At the bottom of the page written in Portuguese was O Fantasma.







O fin















Authors Note

The facts about Alvaro Velho and his diary (which he took along with him back to Portugal) are true but the rest is fictional. Facts about black magic, Hitler and ghosts are fictional.

Portuguese to English translation.

O Fantasmo – The Ghost

O Fin            - The End